


Paper Crown

by HirilGalad



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cute, Developing Friendships, Fluff, One Shot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HirilGalad/pseuds/HirilGalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard goes for a walk through Dale to clear his mind after the Battle of Five Armies when he comes across something he never expected and it warms his heart.<br/>Bardlings, Thranduil and fluff, do you need anything else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Crown

Bard sifted through papers on the makeshift desk, his new home in Dale may be ruined, cracked walls, broken tiles and lacking a front door, but for now, it was home. They could rebuild in time, but it was hard to find comfort when reading the growing list of names being recorded of those that had perished in the recent battle or succumbed to their injuries thereafter. Bard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a sigh, it had become his responsibility to oversee the rebuilding of Dale. More than that, it was his responsibility to lead the survivors as their new King. He wasn't sure he was ready for the role that had been thrust upon him, not one week ago he was a simple bargeman who ferried barrels to and from the Woodland realm. 

His thoughts strayed to the Woodland King, their rapport had steadily been growing more familiar since his arrival in Dale. King Thranduil had bought an army of his finest Elves right before the battle had taken place, he brought with him food, supplies and even if he did not realise it, he brought much comfort to Bard. Being treated as an equal was not something Bard was accustomed to, the Master, leader of their old home in Lake Town certainly did not treat him with any kindness, let alone respect. Bard initially thought Thranduil was simply tolerating him, being polite in his company but over time he came to think that the Elf may see him as something more, perhaps even as a friend.

It had become somewhat of a regular occurrence for Thranduil to summon Bard to his tent set up in a lesser populated area of Dale, they discussed plans for the following day, which area would be cleared of rubble, what houses needed the most attention, but they always finished the discussion with a drink and simple conversation. Bard had seen a different side to Thranduil alone in that tent, one that he never would have suspected on their first meeting. As the King of the Woodland Realm he was intimidating and cold, Bard felt nervous in his presence, always worried about what the King would do should he step out of line. As Thranduil however, he still maintained his icy demeanour but small cracks began to appear in that Kingly mask he wore the more time Bard spent with him, allowing a little of his humour and kindness to show through.

Bard looked back to the papers on his desk, his mind and heart just was not in it to deal with them at the present. Putting on his tattered coat he left the house and stepped out into the icy evening breeze of Dale, he could pick up his children early today. His eldest Sigrid had insisted she help with the wounded in the Town Hall, though Bard had ordered her to stick to washing bandages and fetching supplies, she has seen enough of death without baring witness to more. His son Bain and youngest daughter Tilda were staying with some of the elder townsfolk that had taken residence in one of the larger houses until suitable accommodation was available. Bain was quick to complain about staying with the elders but Bard carefully convinced him that Tilda needed him with her. In truth he knew his time would be sparse in the coming weeks until they had made enough headway for him to be able to delegate tasks and he wanted his children with people he could trust.

He wandered the ruins lost in thought, past broken houses and shattered carts, most of the townsfolk were indoors now as work had begun halting earlier and earlier with each passing day as the weather turned for the worse. They had made remarkable progress considering the conditions, focussing on repairing housing while the elves were still in the City to offer their help. Thranduil was an ally to Dale, but Bard never expected the King to offer his Elves to be put to work in the City, for that Bard was immensely grateful. Without the help they had already provided they would be weeks behind the schedule they were currently on.

Bard found himself wandering near the Elven encampment, there was little activity around the tents and Bard assumed that the Elves had also taken shelter for the night. He heard a lilting laugh carried on the breeze, deep and full of mirth, this was followed by a higher pitched giggle like from that of a child. Surely the Elves would not bring any children with them knowing that there could be danger, he knew little of Elvish customs but he was pretty sure keeping your children away from battle was universal. Curious he walked closer to the direction the sounds had come from and soon found himself near the now familiar regal tent of Thranduil. Another child-like giggle and his mind froze, the laugh that now clearly came from Thranduils tent sounded very familiar, though he had not heard it sound so happy in a long time.

Bard approached the tent which was surrounded by heavily armoured guards, a dark haired Elf, tall and slender as all of their kind were stepped forward, Bard recognised him as one of Thranduil's personal guard.

“Lord Bard” The Elf declared with a slight nod of his head, “The King has been expecting you.”

“He has?” Bard inquired confused, Thranduil always sent a messenger to Bard when he wished to see him, and Bard never dared interrupt the King unannounced. “I was not aware the King wished for an audience with me” he asked cautiously, looking for any sign of trouble. The elf gave a slight smile and stepped aside to allow Bard to enter, offering no further explanation. Bard stepped forward and apprehensively pulled back the flap of fabric over the doorway, the sight he walked in to nearly made him fall flat on his back. Thranduil, King Thranduil, the King of the Woodland Realm, was sitting cross legged on the floor, food and drink spread out on a blanket in front of him with a clumsily cut paper crown perched on top of his head. Across from him sat Bard's youngest daughter Tilda.

“Da!” Tilda exclaimed as she saw her father enter the tent. She shot up off the ground and ran over to hug Bard, clinging to the side of his hip.

“What on Earth is happening here?” Bard asked bewildered, still trying to process the scene in front of him. He was mortified that Tilda had managed to wander into the Elven camp and terrified at what the consequences might be. “I apologise for any inconven-”

“There is no need for apologies” Thranduil quickly interjected as he raised a hand and waved Bard off before rising from the ground in one fluid motion. Bard almost forgot himself looking at the sight in front of him as Thranduil straightened, his perfect rigid posture, almost unnatural height and piercing gaze was made almost into a comedy thanks to the paper crown now drooping slightly sideways on his head.

“Da, we were just playing!' Tilda declared, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Indeed, perhaps you would wish to join the Lady and I?” Thranduil gestured to the rug on the floor and dipped his head slightly as if asking a dignitary to a formal dinner. Bard couldn't help but smile.

“Please Da!” Tilda looked up at him hopefully.

“If the Lord and Lady wishes it then I would be delighted”. 

“He's not a Lord Da, he's a Princess”. Tilda huffed. The look Bard must have had on his face at that moment even made Thranduil smile.

“Well if the... Princess... and the Lady wishes it...”. Tilda beamed as Bard corrected Thranduil's title and the three sat down around the rug. Bard was still unsure of Thranduil's true feelings on what was happening were, but he seemed to actually be having fun, giving a warm smile to Tilda and accepting the cup she offered him. Bard had to wonder if perhaps he had finally had enough wine for it to start affecting his judgement.

“Tilda dear, why did you come here? Why aren't you with the elders?” Bard asked as the little girl stuffed another cake into her mouth. He loved seeing her so happy, it was rare they got to eat something other than fish or a few basic vegetables and bread, but he was worried she had been sneaking out alone. While the city was now secure, it was still no place for a child to be wandering alone in the cold.

“That would be my doing” Thranduil interjected, “You mentioned on our last meeting that you wished you could spend more time with your children.” Bard suddenly felt ashamed, Thranduil must think him a bad father if he pities them enough to take them into his own private tent. “Fear not mellon nin” he continued as if sensing Bards struggle, “I simply wished to offer them company, I understand fully the sacrifices involved in rebuilding a kingdom”, his tone dropped slightly at his last statement. “Besides, we are enjoying ourselves are we not my Lady?” 

Tilda smiled and nodded her head vigorously as she swallowed the last of the cake in a very unladylike manner. Bard smiled, maybe the great Elvenking did have a softer side, he found himself wanting to delve deeper into this side of the King. The conversation flowed from then on until well after dark, Bard was enjoying both seeing Tilda so immensely happy and Thranduil's company. When she yawned for the fourth time he begrudgingly decided it was time to call it a night.

“I thank you for everything you have done this evening” Bard said honestly, “I am sure it is misplaced” he dared with a slight smirk “but I truly am grateful.”

Thranduil gave a small laugh, “It is no inconvenience to me, children are very dear to Elves, we see them so little it is... refreshing.” He smiled at Tilda and went to step outside the tent to bid them farewell for the night and send a guard to accompany them back to their home. Bard knew better than to argue, Thranduil would send a guard with him whether he felt it necessary or not.

“My Lord” Bard stopped him as he was about to exit the tent. “Perhaps there is a more suitable adornment for addressing your guard” he smiled widely. Thranduil looked mortified when he realised he was about to order his personal guard to run an errand while wearing a paper crown.

**Author's Note:**

> I planned on continuing for a few chapters and having it turn full Barduil, but I thought this was a good place to end it and make it a little oneshot.  
> This is my first fic in quite a few years so I'm a little out of practice with my writing, all feedback is appreciated.


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